Empty Handed
by Annjul414
Summary: QW14/Day 4 - Future Quinntana. "People think a soul mate is your perfect fit, and that's what everyone wants. But a true soul mate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that is holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life." - Elizabeth Gilbert Spoilers up to 5x14.


**A/N: **My another submission for Quinntana Week 2014. This is something completely different from what I usually write, but I wanted to give it a try. For those disappointed with 100th episode.

M Warning: language, alcohol use, Puck bashing (kind of), mild sexual content

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

Happy ever after. That's how everything was supposed to end. The end of glee club was the new beginning, new chapter of life. The last reunion in the choir room brought people together, resulting in some unexpected reconciliations. And unexpected decisions. Over five years passed since that day. What was to be a journey towards happiness, for some people turned out to be a journey in a completely different direction.

Santana and Brittany did not return to New York as planned. The blonde found a teaching position in some dance academy on West Coast, and Santana being a good girlfriend, followed her to the small town located at California beach, leaving behind everything connected with New York – work, career, friends. She took a job as a headhunter in an insignificant record label located an hour's drive away in San Diego. Using spare money, they rented a flat in the suburbs. Life was good during the first months. They walked in the mornings under the full sun, laughed splashing in the ocean's waters, and chased each other on the promenade. Santana quickly forgot about the world outside their little piece of heaven.

Quinn, with new hopes and dreams, graduated Yale while Puck was stationing around the country to finally get allocation in Virginia. They persistently maintained their long distance relationship and settled down near Norfolk, on the east, where he was employed. After months of fruitless wandering, Quinn got a job in the local newspaper publisher. With her parents' money, she found an apartment not far away from Puck's fort. It wasn't a bed of roses, yet they were reassuring themselves that it was all they needed. They were together and nothing else mattered.

The New York crew had the time of their lives. Blaine moved into Mercedes's place with Sam while Artie got his own dorm room. Rachel's Broadway career fired off like a missile after her Funny Girl debut and in no time she was offered several other stage roles. Kurt supported Blaine on his NYADA conquest, balancing between work for Vogue and college. Artie became engrossed in Film Academy and only Sam struggled to survive in the modeling industry that he wasn't prepared for.

Somewhere along the way, people grew apart. Santana and Brittany lived carefree on the west, Quinn was stuck with Puck in Virginia, and only New York group kept together, occasionally meeting with a couple of other high school friends. Nobody exactly knew what was happening in lives of those far away. Phone numbers and addresses changed and with every month the distance between them was increasing, until contact completely got lost.

Happiness didn't last forever.

After easy months Santana came to face financial problems when the record label was going bankrupt. Her practically non-existent career was hanging by a thread as she couldn't finalize any contract and musicians didn't turn a profit. Soon after, more dark clouds appeared on the horizon. Her mother was diagnosed with cancer, and a lion's share of what Santana was earning went back to Lima for her treatment. She began working her backside off in several places to make as much money as possible. To her, state of California ceased to be sunny. She was sinking into despair as life was falling apart right in front of her. Even her relationship did not bring any comfort. Brittany did love her, yet love wasn't enough. All she could do was to stand aside and watch Santana fight for remaining afloat.

The fight lasted for over two years. Two years of sleepless nights, frightening calls, and heartbreaking visits. One spring day during her afternoon shift, the phone rang. Her mother lost the fight, and Santana lost herself. After the private funeral, she wasn't able to stay in her hometown. She returned to California, where she had left Brittany, to face of what was left of her life. When she told her girlfriend she was leaving again, never to return, the blonde accepted it with understanding. She knew that something came to an end.

Santana had no plans. There was no place for her in New York, and nothing good was waiting in Lima. Her finger was doing circles on the map to stop at state Washington. Seattle did not look welcoming, but what did she care. Having found some random place to live, she applied for any job just to kill time. She went numb for weeks, alcohol and cigarettes for companions. Storm had passed, but there no was no sunshine.

Quinn didn't have it any easier. Her work was tiring and unsatisfying, people around her boring, town unpleasant. The apartment started to feel like a cage which walls slowly suffocated her. Obligations and bills were multiplying. Puck's air of responsibility was evaporating as he disappeared for the whole evenings, drank beer with friends from military, and took no care of home duties. She grew tired of unanswered calls, dirty clothes on the floor, his apologies and promises. 'I love you' turned into an empty declaration, along with 'it will be okay babe', and 'don't worry'. His arm felt heavy around her shoulder while she caught him observing random girls every time they went out. His confidence started to be annoying, instead of comforting. And whenever she needed him, really needed him, he wasn't there.

They barely made ends meet. She took a second job, even more pitiful than the first, to maintain a certain standard of living. However, Puck was wasting all money away without informing her. As years went by, the situation was only getting worse.

She said enough. It broke her heart again, because he had promised way too many times, yet she had to say enough. He was persistent when she kicked him out of _her_ apartment, at first regretfully sobbing, then angrily screaming. She stopped listening, she stopped believing his words. Everything had its limits. Quinn had told herself she would finally make it right. In the end, the joke was on her. Not anymore. She needed to breathe, to rise on her feet. The problem was, she had no idea how.

* * *

Maybe it was the sentiment that lured both of them back to McKinley for class reunion on the anniversary of their graduation. Maybe it was the subconscious need to be in the swim of things again. Maybe it was the curiosity of what happened to all people who were once close to their hearts. Regardless, they found themselves travelling back to the place where it all began.

Santana wasted no time to find a way through the dimmed gym hall to the bar. It seemed that it was a common anniversary for several classes, since there were too many people. She was thankful for the crowds and music which helped her blending in. Uncertain about what she was really doing there, she decided to focus on avoiding people and drinking, two things she mastered during the past years. Some familiar faces flashed before her eyes, yet she had no desire to socialize. She could very vividly imagine their pathetic small talks about weddings, careers, pregnancies, and other stuff that she gave no damn about.

Quinn showed up a little late, still doubtful about the arrival, and bumped right into a group of her old friends. With awkward smile she listened to Rachel's stories about Broadway, Mercedes's excitement with another upcoming album, happy married life of Kurt and Blaine, Sam's Hugo Boss contract, and Artie's collaboration with Paramount Pictures. The only good thing about the situation was the fact that Puck was nowhere to be seen. When she was asked about her life, she excused herself to the bathroom with a plan to get the hell out.

Then, when she was almost at the exit, she spotted her.

At the bar, alone, with back turned at everything. If not for her characteristic hair and way of clothing, she would not have recognized her. Santana was thinner than ever, her sloppy make-up did not cover the dark circles around her dull eyes which were staring into space. The blonde couldn't walk away. Something about her old best friend pulled her in.

"Santana."

"Quinn."

She did not overrun her with questions. She didn't move or even glance at her. Her fingers absentmindedly played with edge of the glass which was not her first drink. Quinn lacked words, so she just sat down on the stool beside her. Santana was still not looking at her. She simply did not care about anything. She stopped caring long time ago.

After several minutes Quinn spoke first. Short, general sentences. She talked briefly about difficult college, routine work, friends or rather lack thereof, place of living. When she mentioned her relationship with Puck, Santana showed for the first time a little bit of interest.

"How you two doing?"

"Not good."

She didn't want to speak about it, not there. The brunette didn't press. They went silent for another minute and Santana turned her blank face to look at her fully. Quinn resembled very much her old, goody two-shoes self, the one she saw five years ago. Yet the brunette knew that it was an illusion. Behind her green exquisite eyes was hiding something else. Something that made them strangely similar.

"Have you talked with Rachel, Kurt, and the others?"

"No."

"If you do, prepare yourself for listening to the long reports on their perfect lives."

"I wasn't planning to. Screw them."

They were on the same page.  
People started hanging around the small scene which indicated there would be a performance. Upon seeing the commotion, Santana emptied her glass and heavily sighed.

"I need a smoke."

She stood up and left through emergency exit, Quinn right behind her. They went outside to stand by the gray walls of the building. The brunette lit up the cigarette and stared at the summer sky with disinterest.

"What about you? Where are you living?"

"Seattle."

"What are you doing there?"

"This and that. You get what they give."

"You live alone?"

"For now."

"Where's Brittany?"

"I don't know."

"What do you mean?"

"I haven't seen or talked with her for… two years, more or less."

Quinn went silent. Her life was not the only one wasted. Perhaps she would have been surprised hearing such news some time ago, yet she learnt that one couldn't take everything for granted. Santana threw away the cigarette end and turned towards her.

"I'm leaving. Coming here was a waste of time."

"Can I go with you?"

It's not like she had anything better to do. The brunette shrugged in reply and started walking towards the parking lot near the main entrance. Quinn caught up with her, expecting that Santana had a car somewhere, but she was going straight ahead without a second glance at anything.

"Hey, Quinn! Wait!" The blonde stopped paralyzed upon hearing familiar, rough voice while Santana lazily turned her head to look at Puck running in their direction. "I knew you'd come, I was looking everywhere for you. Babe, please… listen to me."

"I'm done listening to you, Noah. I told you to leave me alone, it's over!"

"Don't be like that, hear me out."

"You said enough, we have nothing to talk about."

"Give us another chance. After everything we've been through…"

"Get over yourself, Puck. I gave you hundreds of chances." She turned around to walk away and he grabbed her wrist.

"Hey, you kn– " He didn't finish because Santana took a huge swing and slapped him across his face so hard that the sound scared the birds off from the tree. He staggered, touching his cheek. "What the hell?"

"Watch your fucking hands. She told you to go away, you should listen."

"Stay out of this! That's between me and her!"

"You know that harassment is punishable? I swear to God, if you don't leave now, I will slap you again. I can go on like that all day."  
She stood between two of them, her face emotionless, but serious. Puck looked at Quinn again.

"We're endgame, you know it. Think about it, hard. I'm gonna wait for you back at our place."  
She was too tired to answer. With one last stern look, he went back into the building. Santana resumed walking.

"I could have handled that."

"Perhaps. I just wanted to punch him real bad."

"Why?"

"… No reason."

Quinn didn't ask why they were moving on foot and where. Her very quiet and grim companion was refreshing. This was always kind of their thing, communication without words. They weren't needed. After several minutes Santana turned right and they walked right under the cemetery arch.

They stood in front of the marble plaque which inscription still looked strange to Santana. Even though two years had passed, pain never went away. She could have done more, tried harder. She didn't forgive herself for not being there when she died. She didn't forgive herself for not saying goodbye, for not holding her hand in her last minutes. The last time she heard her voice was days before her death, while her mother asked her to stop tormenting herself with work and visit again. She didn't. There was no closure or farewell. And this was her greatest remorse on the long list.

Quinn stood behind and rested her hand on her shoulder. Santana resembled that marble monument she was staring at so much that it actually scared her a little. She had never seen her so defeated. She had never seen _anyone _so defeated.

"When I heard from my mother about this… I wanted to come. I couldn't, because of my job. I got here a day later, you were already gone. I'm really sorry."

Santana said nothing.

"I tried to contact you."

"I wanted to be alone for a while."

She understood that, yet it didn't make her feel any better. Quinn realized that friendships and high school memories weren't worth a dime if one couldn't be there for their friend in such situation. All of their glee club so-called friends... that was just a joke. In the end, there was nothing left of them apart from chitchats about careers and silly memories. Santana looked at her, a flicker of emotions flashed in her dark eyes. Her thoughts were similar. No one beside her family cared. And the rest of her friends didn't lift a finger to somehow reach her. She was alone.

They stood in silence until Quinn's phone rung. Her boss was calling and she angrily dismissed it. She had asked only for a few peaceful days to sort her stuff and that asshole was already reminding her of his existence.

"Do you want to grab something to eat?"

Quinn nodded, surprised a bit by the sudden suggestion, and they found a cheap diner right on the corner. They sat down in the secluded area to have a quick meal without useless storytelling. None of them felt like talking.

"When do you go back?"

"I planned tomorrow, but I can't stand being here for another day. Which means I'm probably leaving today. You?" Santana asked, playing with a bottle of beer.

"I took a couple of days off… I don't want to return yet. And I don't want to stay here either, but I have nowhere else to go."

The brunette sympathized with her. She knew very well the feeling of homelessness. Having thought about it for a couple of seconds, she came to conclusion that she actually did not mind Quinn's presence, in contrast to other people's.

"You can go with me."

They went to Seattle together.

* * *

Santana's district was gloomy. Blocks of flats were gloomy, people in the dark alleys were gloomy. The whole city made Quinn feel depressed. Santana, on the other hand, got used to it. She somehow fit – with her leather jacket, confident posture, stone face, and a cloud of smoke she left behind.

The stairs led them to the highest floor and Quinn got a strange feeling of déjà vu. The building reminded her of the Bushwick apartment in New York. It was funny that she remembered anything about it. It felt like it was a lifetime ago. Santana opened the door with difficulty and Quinn once more saw the similarity.

It was a very small flat, basically without rooms. All spaces were joined into one besides the separated bathroom. Kitchen was simply a set of furniture and home appliances, bedroom consisted of a low bed and drawers, right out in the open. There was little besides that. No sofa, dining table or desk. Huge blinded windows indicated a balcony, but there was none. Everything was in complete mess. Bottles mixed with clothes and papers, random cosmetics scattered around, dishes. It looked like hardly anyone lived there, or left in hurry. That room assured Quinn that Santana was nowhere close to being fine. Although she didn't ask. She didn't have to.

The brunette walked to the windows and opened them wide, harsh city sounds filling the apartment. She threw her bag on the bed carelessly, looking around the place. She hadn't bothered cleaning anything up, it would have only returned to its previous state.

"Fridge is empty, gotta do some shopping later. How long are you staying for?"

"I don't know yet. Do I bother you?"

"If you did, I wouldn't have asked you to come. I will have to buy new sheets too."

Quinn used to be a neat freak. Yet somehow she wasn't concerned about the condition of Santana's place. She was more troubled about the fact that she lit another cigarette.

"Do you work today?"

"I have a night shift tomorrow."

"Where?"

"In a bar downtown."

"What do you do there?"

"Stuff. You'll see."

"How come?"

"You don't want to stay here alone."

Santana knew what she was talking about. Spending nights in that apartment was one of the worst things about living there. Her heart got heavier than usual, and her mind wandered into some very dark places. She could stay up until the sun appeared on the horizon.

After roaming around the city, they returned in the late evening with grocery bags. Santana took notice that her flat was not the best place for inviting guests.

"I should have told you how I'm living."

"I don't care."

She truly didn't. Being there was still better than her own crappy apartment in Virginia.

With poor light coming from the kitchen lamps, they started cleaning around and it was the first productive activity that Santana did for months. When the place looked more habitable, they went under the covers. Rain was drumming against the windows, lulling them to restless sleep.

They woke up around noon only to spend the next few hours in bed. Santana passed her some alcohol she pulled out from the nearest drawer. She noticed that Quinn was more distant than ever and somehow she found herself caring.

"I know you probably don't want to talk. I didn't, for a very long time. But also I had no one to talk to."

The blonde looked at her with comprehension. When things began to crash down she hadn't talked with anyone either, trying to fix things and think optimistically. She pretended with her mother, and little by little, she learnt to pretend with everyone. Unlike Santana who just stopped paying attention to keeping up appearances.

Quinn started telling her about the last years, this time sincerely. She spoke about her wretched job and stiff town. That everything went wrong. She talked about Puck, summing up how they lived practically separately, how he worsened through years. She spoke about her speculations, hinting about other women on his side. That he was harassing her for months to return to him via calls, letters, and sudden visits.

"He was repeating that he's a changed man. Every time. Only to screw up something again."

"People don't change. Not entirely… not like that."

Santana was angry with herself for not seeing through him. She should have known. Yet she got fooled like everyone else.

"We seemed like a good idea back then. It seemed a normal thing to do, maintain the relationship, settle down. We both wanted happiness and we were good together. At first. Then something went wrong… I don't know what happened. It was good until it wasn't."

What was the worst, she had believed him. She had stupidly fallen for his words so many times. She had trusted him for years because he smiled at her. Because he wanted her. The problem was, he also wanted many other things. And Quinn just once wished to be on the top of someone's list.

"That kind of stuff just happens. It's not your fault. If it's anyone's fault, it's his. You did everything right. You did your best."

"Maybe. What about you and Brittany?"

"Sometimes things don't work out and you don't know why."

"Do you miss her?"

"I… I used to miss what we had. We lived like queens of the entire universe. Like there was no tomorrow, no worries or responsibilities." She broke off, her eyes distant. "I don't think about it anymore. It's easier this way. And it doesn't matter now anyway."

"Now you don't? Miss it?"

"No, cause all of it was a lie. That life was a lie. You can't escape from reality."

Santana had wondered what it could be if things didn't go the way they did. If her mother didn't get sick, if she stayed, if her job was better. However, it was the past.

She got up, stating that it was time to get ready. There was no closet to change clothes so she started dressing in front of her, walking around half-naked to find any clean shirt. Even though she looked less healthy than she remembered her, Quinn noticed that she hadn't lost her curves. She was still exotically gorgeous.

They went downtown to a little, cameral pub with a stage in the corner and furniture by the walls. Santana took her to a private table near the scene and ordered a drink. Quinn watched her disappear behind the bar counter as she began taking orders.

Night was progressing slowly. The atmosphere of blues hung in the air, people sluggishly came and went. It was peaceful, but sleepy. The entire city seemed to be that way. After a few boring hours, a small jazz band took the scene and Santana joined them. They played some melancholic tunes and her low voice fit perfectly the mood.

Everything finished in the middle of the night. On their way back to the apartment they dropped by convenience store to buy breakfast.

"You didn't say that you still sing."

"That's just a couple of random night performances. Nothing big, yet it's all I have left. There were times that only those nights kept me alive."

"You always work that late?"

"Usually… depends. Sometimes I have earlier shifts, sometimes shorter. Not to mention my additional job in the diner. Once I had several workplaces."

"How do you cope with all of that?"

"The same way you do."

Quinn felt exhausted with work too, but she didn't admit it. Both of them learnt to deal with it, since there was no other choice.

They entered the darkened room and Santana once more opened the window, dropping her jacket on the bed. She looked out on the streets, inhaling the tobacco smoke. Quinn stood beside her and observed the night life which was so different from the day one. No noise, traffic jams or crowds. They got lost in the silence.

Both of them were bound to succeed. They were smart, gifted, beautiful. They had the world by the tail. Their future was supposed to be bright, everything was supposed to be alright as they finally got out of that small Ohio town. So why it wasn't?

Quinn started crying. Without explanation, without confession. And when Santana looked at her, _really _looked at her, she understood. Because she was broken just like her. Because in her lifeless, beautiful eyes she could see her own reflection.

The blonde was shaking and Santana felt her heart beating again. She embraced her, but Quinn didn't calm down. She was uncertain what to do. After isolating herself from people for so long, she forgot how that kind of things worked. So she decided to rely on instinct, the thing she had been doing for years.

She wiped off tears from her pale face and press her lips against hers. At first, Quinn was taken aback by the act. But she ignored the nicotine taste of her mouth and kissed her back.

They knew it wasn't smart. But they were lonely, hurt, and wishing to feel something again. So within seconds clothes hit the floor, limbs intertwined, lips sucked, and nails scratched. Quinn's unrestrained deep moans filled the room because no one was ever that passionate with her and it sounded like music to Santana's ears. There was no hesitation. No remorse. No apathy. They were whispering each other's names over and over again, forgetting about everything else except that moment. Fingers caressed skin as if they learnt that dance by heart. As if they did that thousands of times before. Breaths and heartbeats became one. Bed sheets were on fire.  
And in the release, they both felt awakened. Resurrected.

For the first time sleep came quickly and softly. Subconsciously, they hold on to each other throughout the rest of the night, since they had way too many cold ones spent alone.

Santana woke up around dawn to curse under her breath as she took in the sight of all clothes scattered around the bed and a very naked body next to her. She grabbed the first shirt she found and started making coffee. Having sat down at the kitchen table, she watched Quinn from a distance, waiting for her to wake up. Everything inside her was a mess. What a strange feeling in comparison to the emptiness that usually filled her.

The blonde stretched and looked around the place to lock eyes with her. Santana was the first to speak.

"I'm sorry."

"For what? Do… do you regret it?"

"I would never ever regret that. I didn't the first time, and I don't regret now."

"What is it then?"

"It wasn't appropriate of me."

"If I'd something against it, I'd have objected. I didn't."

"No, you didn't."

Santana passed her a cup of coffee. Quinn was sipping it for over ten minutes, trying to figure out why she indeed didn't.

Several more days passed in routine. They went from place to place, inseparable, helping each other around. No questions were asked, no demands were made. They still didn't talk much, but both of them took certain amount of comfort in each other's presence. Quinn felt at times troubled with the idea that she was somehow an inconvenience, but Santana's gentle looks kept reassuring her that she didn't mind her company.

Evenings were spent lazily in the apartment with dimmed lights, blues radio station, and mild drinks.

"Your phone doesn't stop vibrating." Santana said, focused on some magazine when Quinn left the bathroom.

"It's my boss all the time. I told him I'm not ready to return yet." The brunette nodded shortly her head. "You have nothing to say?"

"You're a grown-up woman, Quinn. It's your life and your decisions. You don't answer to me."

The blonde stared at her, thinking over her words. They were so unfamiliar. She sat down next to Santana, looking at the parquet floor.

"I don't want to return there. I just don't... He will be there."

"Fuck him. You don't have to do anything. You can stay here."

They turned off the lights and settled comfortably in bed. Quinn laid her head on Santana's chest, feeling the embrace of the other girl's arms around her.

"I want to be okay again." She whispered tiredly and Santana held her closer.

She knew she would be. Quinn was the strongest person she had known.

The next day they left the diner early to walk down the main street. Having eaten fast lunch, they resumed cleaning the flat since it was still far from presentable. Santana thought it was pointless, but she followed Quinn's steps. The blonde found the activity very soothing. Organizing things was her kind of way to keep together. When she cleaned the last dishes, she caught sight of a calendar. Time was passing and she had to face it. Santana noticed her thoughtful expression and silently asked her about it.

"I don't know what to do. I need to go back eventually."

Quinn looked out the window, the sun warming her face. She couldn't run away forever. Yet the thought about going back to that town, to her miserable life, made her internally squirm. Santana approached her to stroke comfortingly her arm.

"And what do _you_ want?"

"I don't know. What I know though, is that nothing good awaits me there."

"It doesn't have to be that way. You don't have to live like that."

"It's my life. It's all I have."

"Do you want to know my opinion? I think that you're better off without it. Without all of them." They looked at each other, Quinn's puzzled eyes and Santana's stern ones. "You deserve so much more than a crappy job and unsupportive asshole of a boyfriend. You deserve the whole world and every little beautiful thing it has denied you so far."

Quinn mulled over her words for several quiet seconds to suddenly grab her face and crashed their lips together. Santana carefully pulled back with wary expression.

"Quinn… I –"

"Please. Please."

She whispered with desperation, caressing lovingly her face, keeping her close. Santana met her eyes and she had no strength to turn her down. They went slower, more carefully, with emotion rather than pure passion. And every kiss felt like a deep breath after long suffocation. They fell down on the pillows, feeling high more than ever before. Quinn took her hand in hers and nuzzled her arm with contentment. Santana rested her head against hers.

"This can't keep happening."

"You… don't want to…?"

"Of course I do. But this messes in our heads. In your head. You need to put yourself together, but not this way."

"I don't feel messed up with you. You… bring me clarity."

"I'm not the right person to fix you, Quinn. I wish I was. But I'm not and we can't use each other like that."

"I know."

They lay in silence, unaware of the order of things. It's the pieces that together made something whole. Santana didn't know she was helping Quinn. And Quinn didn't know she was helping Santana. They forgot the way to go, but together it was easier to be found again.

In the free morning they went to the largest department store to shop, something that they hadn't done in a while. Sitting in the cafeteria with a cup of ice cream, Quinn started recalling the best moments from the past years. Funny stories, stupid situations, weird people. She focused on the most positive memories and Santana actually smiled. It was fleeting and gentle, but she did. Quinn smiled too because she sensed hope.

They got back in the evening to freshen up before heading to the bar for the night. After quick showers and change of clothes, Quinn checked her phone to see a dozen of notifications on the screen. She went outside for a couple of seconds and Santana narrowed her eyes at her immediate return.

"Is everything alright?"

"It was my boss, as usual. I quit."

The brunette wordlessly embraced her and although Quinn was miles away from her home and her life, she felt that everything in the end would be alright.

* * *

After a very stressful day spent jumping between the diner and pub, Santana collapsed on the bed with intention to get drunk enough to pass out. She opened the vodka bottle and reached for the glass standing on the nightstand when the blonde seized it in the last second.

"Quinn? What are you doing?"

"What does it look like?"

"Give me please my shot back."

"No."

"I seriously need a drink."

"Enough is enough. If you keep drinking this crap, you will never feel fine."

"This crap is the only thing that makes me feel fine."

"I don't believe you."

"That's not my problem. Now give me the damn glass." Quinn pulled back further.

"No. You need to stop this once and for all."

"Maybe I don't want to stop!"

"Why can't you let it go?! You act like you don't care, but you're bound to what happened. You can't move on, you gave up. Most importantly, you live with guilt, blaming yourself for everything."

"I have my reasons."

"You told me that I did my best. But you don't believe that you did yours."

"Cause you sacrificed things, Quinn! For him. I… I just failed. I failed at every little thing. I failed everyone." Santana averted her eyes, her voice barely audible.

"No, you didn't. You sacrificed things for the people you loved too. Some things aren't meant to be, you said it yourself. It doesn't mean you can't start over."

"California was supposed to be my start over."

"You're wasting your life."

"So are you! Being here with me!"

"I was wasting my life. Not anymore." She replied firmly, sitting down next to her. "It's been so long. Don't you want to try again? Because… I do. I finally do."

They fell silent and Santana stubbornly stared at some point on the floor.

"My situation is different from yours. I don't have a college to back me up, or any respectful job. I have nothing and it was my choice."

"Was it? Perhaps you chose it, but did you really want it? Do you still want it? I don't think you do. You don't have to live that way anymore." She echoed her previous words and Santana felt a crack in her walls. "You don't have to be alone in this."

"I will let you down. You don't want to be around me. I'm no good, Quinn."

"I'm no good either. But we could be. We could get better."

"You don't belong here."

"You don't belong here either."

"You should let me go."

"I refuse to give up on you."

"Why?"

"Cause you didn't give up on me."

Santana looked into her eyes and she realized how exhausted she was with everything. How she was fed up with her life and everyday choices. How horrible it felt deep down inside her. She brushed aside her long dark strands and hid her face in her hands. She couldn't remember the last time she cried. Quinn held her close and it gave them a piece of long awaited serenity. They fell asleep with thoughts that perhaps not everything was lost.

* * *

Santana didn't feel like working and she took a couple of days off, ignoring her manager's angry mumbling. When she was sitting with Quinn at lunch, sudden words shook her out of deep consideration.

"I'm going back."

"…What do you mean you're going back?"

"To Virginia." Santana tried not to show it, but her expression turned somber at her words.

"I see."

"And you're going with me."

"What?"

"I need to get some of my things. I didn't bring here much."

"Are you certain this is what you want?"

"I do. I will sell the apartment in a few months, for now I just want to gather my stuff."

"What about Puckerman?"

"I won't hide from him anymore." Santana did a half-smile and returned to her salad. "Do you have any money left?"

"I'm always broke. Don't worry about that, though."

They travelled to a small village outside Norfolk, both of them observing the changing landscape. Quinn was anxious about the whole thing, but Santana held her hand and she found hidden levels of determination within herself. The taxicab brought them to a small block of flats in the residential area near the 'center' and they entered the studio apartment on the second floor. Unlike Santana's, it was more organized and less spacious. Furniture was simple but modern, calm wall colors fit carpets and sofa set, wide windows provided much light.

"It's not so bad."

"No, it's not. But neighbors, region… everything about this place feels wrong." Quinn took in the small common room linked to the kitchen and door leading to the bedroom. "Too many memories."

She sighed seeing some of Puck's belongings and her random daily objects. Santana stood in the middle, resting her hands on her hips.

"Let's get started then. The sooner we get this done, the sooner we leave."

They wrapped the place within one hour. Quinn took her most needed things, leaving behind the household items and other unnecessary stuff. She packed into three medium-sized suitcases which Santana placed in the hallway. They were fairly ready to leave as somebody knocked on the door. They exchanged knowing glances.

"Quinn! I know you're in there! I'm not leaving until you open the door!" Angry voice shouted on the other side and Santana grabbed her arm before she reached the handle.

"Listen, you don't have to talk with him. I can deal with this."

"Thank you, but there is no point in putting that off." The brunette nodded, and Quinn let Puck inside.

"Finally! Where the hell have you been all those days? And what is _she_ doing here?" Santana was about to retort when the other girl faced her.

"Santana, will you please give us a moment?"

"I'll be waiting downstairs."

With one last sullen look sent to him, she took the bags and left. Puck turned towards Quinn with pleased expression, but she spoke first.

"I've listened to you so many times, now it's your turn to hear me out. When I said that we're done, I was serious. I'm done with you, I'm done with this town, and I'm done with everything here. I've wasted enough of my life. I'm leaving, this time for good, and nothing will change my mind, especially you. So say what you have to say and let's go our own way like civilized adults we are."

"You can't be serious about this! Where are gonna go? What are you gonna do? You can't just leave behind what we've built here!"

"Oh, I can. And I will. _We_'ve built nothing, although I've put enough effort for both of us."

"What about your job, what about us, about everything?!"

"These are exactly the reasons why I'm leaving."

"I've changed, Quinn! I've ended things with those girls, I don't drink that much anymore. I will even get a better job! I've changed, for you!"

"I bet you have."

"Look, I'm trying here, okay?!"

"I bet you are."

"What happened with sticking together in good times and bad times?"

"Well, this promise was kind of broken when one of the parties stopped fulfilling it, wasn't it?"

"That's it? After all of our history you decided to give up?"

"I'm not giving up. On the contrary, I'm starting over. I'm letting go of you, of this life. And you should let go too. There is nothing even to hold onto anymore." Puck seemed downbeat as he stared at her with complete resignation.

"Everything because of me?"

"No."

"Then… why?"

"I need to be good to myself again. And here… I'm just not."

He stood motionlessly in silence, with disarrayed hair and sloppy clothes. Quinn sighed and took the rest of her things. She placed the keys on the counter.

"You can live here until I sell the apartment. Maybe one day we will be friends once more, but for now I need time and space. Take care of yourself, Noah."

They looked at each other and Quinn passed him by. When she was closing the door on her way out, he was still standing in the same spot.

She walked out the building and saw Santana standing next to the cab. She immediately livened at her sight.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes. Let's go."

Having told the driver their destination, Quinn chuckled to herself.

"My mother will be so pleased."

"Why's that?"

"She never liked Puck, so to speak."

They looked at each other and laughed. The blonde snuggled up to lean against Santana, deep in thought. She observed through the window passing road signs.

"Have you been to Philadelphia?"

"No."

"I heard it's beautiful at this time of the year."

"Wanna check it out?"

Quinn couldn't believe her ears because it took her days to encourage Santana to go anywhere. She smiled so brightly that the brunette thought it was worth it.

It was a beautiful summer day for a trip. With savings they bought a room near the city center to left the luggage and go straight away sightseeing. Santana looked out the hotel window to see the cloudless blue sky. She could almost feel the soft breeze on her skin and fresh air in her lungs. She looked around the room and her eyes landed on Quinn who was arranging her things. The sun was illuminating her face and she looked beyond perfection. The brunette felt her heart melting at the sight. It had been so long since she felt something similar. She averted her eyes to look at the streets full of life and went for the door, putting on her light jacket. Quinn frowned.

"Where are you going?"

"_We_ are going for a walk. I thought you wanted to see the city."

After a quick tour around the downtown, they ate lunch outdoors and went to the park. Having circled the lake, they sat down on the bench under oak to relax. Santana reached for the pack of cigarettes in her pocket and Quinn grabbed her hand.

"Don't." She looked at her warily. "I was there. Remember the skank Quinn? She wasn't very likeable. Don't make the same bad choices as I did… This won't make you feel better, despite your belief."

Santana's expression remained blank. When the blonde let go of her arm, she pulled the small package out. Having exchanged looks with Quinn, she stood up, and threw the pack away into the nearest thrash bin.

"Do you wanna see some gallery? I believe there is a museum nearby." The blonde grinned and they embraced each other, walking down the path under the green trees. "You know… I liked skank Quinn. She was pretty hot."

"You don't say."

"Yeah. Just don't tell her I said that."

They returned two days later at night and immediately went to bed, feeling exhausted by travel. Quinn already had a habit of keeping a firm grip on Santana's arm whenever they slept and the brunette silently ignored that her muscles were sore in the mornings. Despite obvious tiredness, they both stayed awake for a long time. Their minds and hearts were sleepless.

"San? Are you awake?"

"My insomnia hasn't gone yet." Quinn cuddled up to her and sighed.

"What happens now?" Santana turned her face towards her.

"I don't know."

"I really liked that Philadelphia trip."

"So did I."

"We should do that again. I've always wanted to see the world. Just imagine… a tour around Europe…"

"I have a job. Two, actually."

"You should quit them."

"Then how am I going to pay for our travels, Fabray?" She actually joked and Quinn smiled, seeing a glimpse of her old humor back.

"You need to get another one, something on your level. You can do much better than this." Santana's face fell as she looked back at the ceiling.

"There was a time that I thought so."

"Don't let the events of the past eliminate your future." She paused, her quiet words loud and clear in the silent apartment. "I know you're scared. I'm scared too. And I have no idea where to start. But for the first time since years, I'm really looking forward to tomorrow. Because now I know that it's all up to me. That I can change something."

Santana met her eyes and Quinn's lips slightly curled up.

"You taught me that."

"I didn't teach you anything good. Maybe you haven't noticed, I'm not a walking role model. You are now jobless and living in a shithole around lowlifes. I wouldn't call that a success."

"It's a step forward. I don't feel enslaved anymore, I don't feel stuck in the same place. And to set right some things – this is not a shithole and you are not a lowlife."

The brunette didn't answer.

"It will take time, but every day is an opportunity to have a better life. We could try together. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere."

They listened to each other's steady breaths and infrequent sounds coming from the streets. Santana took her time to observe every inch of her face, starting with her green eyes which tenderly stared back at her. She leant closer, and their foreheads touched. Quinn's body was pressed against her so she only had to lift a little her arm to embrace her. She felt warm and her delicate scent was calming. Their noses softly brushed and their lips met, hesitantly gliding over each other in a slow, delicate manner. The brunette very gently bit Quinn's lower lip, making her breathe into her. She inhaled deeply the sweet, warm air and traced bitten spot with her tongue. The kiss smoothly deepened, but none of them made further moves. It was enough – feeling and tasting. Intimate, controlled, without lust. They pulled apart after what seemed to be centuries, keeping the minimal distance between their faces. Santana lazily opened her eyes to peek at Quinn's still closed ones. She brought her free hand to caress her cheek down to jawline and the blonde smiled. For the rest of the night she felt that smile on her lips.

* * *

Ultimately, Santana got induced to spend the last penny and go on a very extended holidays with Quinn around Europe. They visited royal places of London, took pictures with colorful tulips near Amsterdam, laid down on Elysian Fields in Paris, and walked down the fashion street in Milano to end up dancing under the full Barcelona sun. Sights made them forget about Virginia and Seattle, each other's presence kept their minds on the right tracks.

Quinn was so affected by this experience that they continued the tour back in United States. When they got to San Francisco, they fell in love with the city and never left. Santana ditched performing for the business side of music industry, and using her fierce communication skills started collaboration with the famous record producer in one of the best developing record labels on the west coast. Quinn's new discovered passion for travelling encouraged her to work for travel magazine, thus providing both of them free excursions around the globe.

It became a tradition that every two-three months they visited different city to slow down a bit with their lives. Memories of what they lost and what it took to finally make it right caused them to enjoy every little moment of happiness. And during the next three years spent in San Francisco there was quite a few of them.

One summer, their holidays led them to Los Angeles to taste a bit of Hollywood glamor. First several days they spent on sightseeing since early morning until late night. Santana politely agreed to follow Quinn who couldn't pass by any important attractions which were almost on every corner. When the blonde was satisfied enough, they decided to savor the sun and beach view, walking down the promenade.

"Is it weird that I feel kind of homesick now? It never happened before."

"No. I miss our quiet apartment back in San Francisco too. Crowds are everywhere."

They were buying iced tea in one of the stands when someone called their names. With a quick glance around they spotted Kurt and Mercedes sitting at the table nearby, looking extremely surprised and happy at the same time.

"Oh my God, it's really you guys! I can't believe it! What are you doing here?"

"Having some vacation."

"What a coincidence. It's been years… we haven't heard from you two, how are you?"

"We're… pretty good." Quinn replied, smiling at Santana.

"And what exactly happened that you disappeared off the face of the earth?"

"Well, you know how it is… stuff happens and before you realize, years go by."

"Come on, you need to tell us everything. What's your job, where do you live?"

"There is not much to say. We're both fairly happy with work and we have a nice apartment in San Francisco."

"That's cool! We had no idea that you live together."

"As I said, stuff happened."

"Time has been good to you. You look great, girls." They exchanged sideway glances.

"Thanks, so do you."

"Come, sit with us. We have so much to catch up on. Sam, Blaine, and Rachel will be joining us soon, they stopped over in some outlet. Later we're having lunch together, you should come!" Subliminally they reached for each other's hands.

"Sorry, but we really gotta go. We still have a few errands to run."

"Wait, we hardly talked. Can't you stay a little longer?"

"Maybe some other time."

"We need another reunion, in New York style. I could ring up rest of the people… that would be awesome. We should stay in touch, how can we reach you two?"

"Here, take my card. You can write me e-mail, the phone number is strictly a business one." Quinn gave Mercedes a small piece of paper.

"Alright. I'm already looking forward to it. Make sure you have a free week, we gonna have a wild party!"

"Sure, just inform us earlier."

"You certain you can't hang about? They should be here in a minute or two."

"It's our last day here, we really want to make the most of it."

"Okay then. Take care and hopefully we'll see each other in no time. It was great seeing you."

They said their goodbyes and resumed strolling, both deep in thought. It was a strange feeling, to be indifferent to people who once were important. However, high school was over, things changed, time passed, and life happened. They wordlessly came to conclusion that they had moved on and it didn't matter anymore. Past was better left buried.

Santana entwined their fingers and grinned all of a sudden.

"That reminded me… I hope you know that we're not leaving without proper shopping time."

"I'm quite aware of that." She sighed. "Why did I agree to marry you again?"

"I don't know. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that we love each other so much? Or you were simply tired of my constant pestering. Yeah. That's probably the reason."

Quinn laughed at the fairly fresh memory of Santana who had been asking her the same question over and over again for weeks. She stopped walking to kiss her lips and the brunette sent her a funny look, since extroverted behavior was usually not her style. Having smiled wider, she tugged at her hand to keep walking.

Moving forward.

The sun was high in the sky, almost blinding them. Yet after being to hell and back, its light was truly a sight for their sore eyes.


End file.
